#past relationship

[chaotic-orphan]

Febuwhump: Day Twenty-Six

“Help them” — #febuwhump prompt calendar

Almost over!! Eeek!! I need to get all the prompts done! And my assignments are coming due but what is more important honestly?!

*~*~*~*~*

Hero brought Villain to supervillain cradled in their arms, paler than milk. It made everything look worse somehow… the dark circles around their eyes looked more like bruises now, deep purple and sore reds. Henchmen narrowed their eyes when they opened the door to see Hero standing there, covered in blood and an unconscious Villain cradled in their arms like a baby.

“I need to see Supervillain,” said Hero thickly. Henchmen raised their brows, clearly unimpressed. Hero stepped in, desperation driving them. “Please… I wouldn’t be here if there was any other way. You know Villain, henchmen please.”

Henchmen’s eyes flicked from Villain to Hero before setting their mouth in a thin line and stepping back into the house, opening the door wider.

“Thank you,” Hero breathed.

“I’m not doing this for you.”

“I know, thank you anyway. I’m grateful.”

Henchmen guided Hero to the stairs down to Supervillain’s workshop that took up the entire basement, renovated to suit Supervillain’s needs. Hero thanked Henchmen again before descending to the sounds of the door shutting behind them.

“Henchmen, if this is about tea again, I told you I’m fi—” Supervillain grumbled coming to see the intruder on the stairs. He paused, continuing to wipe his fingers in a cloth. Supervillain’s eyes took in Hero, the state of them, then focused on Villain in Hero’s arms.

Supervillain’s gaze when it returned to Hero’s eyes was heavier, weighted by their shared history. Supervillain turned away and said: “I’m closed for the day, little Hero.”

“Please.” The word was blubbered out of Hero’s lips before they could reign it in, the desperation, the despair, the panic. It caused Supervillain to pause again.

“Help them,” Hero whispered, sniffing, tears streaming down their cheeks Hero wished wouldn’t shed in front of the deadliest Villain in the entire city. “Please.”

“I told you,” said Supervillain, looking at Hero over their shoulder. “That if you walked out the door Villain was your problem. I told Villain that too. I didn’t walk, Hero. You did.”

“I’ll beg,” Hero told them taking another step down the stairs. “I’ll stay, I’ll do whatever you want. I’ll give up being a Hero, I’ll stay here with you and we can start again.”

Supervillain scoffed, casting their gaze to the ceiling instead of anywhere else. “You’d give up your freedom for that mongrel?”

“Yes.”

There was no hesitation. No hitch in Hero’s voice, no doubt.

Hero watched Supervillain’s back stiffen at the immediacy of Hero’s reply, and the guilt overwhelmed them but it was the truth. The one truth Hero would live and die by, sacrifice their freedom for. If it meant Villain lived.

Supervillain started walking again, their voice quieter as they said: “you can set them down on this table here. Then leave. I don’t need you lurking over me while I work.”

“But—” Hero protested as they set Villain on the table. The rest of their protest died on their tongue when Supervillain cut them with a glare.

“Just upstairs, you don’t have to leave. You can shower, tend to your wounds yourself.”

Hero nodded and sniffed, “oh—okay.”

Hero pressed a kiss to Villain’s forehead before they sniffed and turned to leave. Supervillain spoke and it halted Hero in their stride.

“This will cost you dearly, Hero,” they said, voice grave. Hero nodded and said: “I know.”

That’s all they said, that was all there was to say. Hero walked back up the stairs to the main house. Henchmen was waiting beside the door, arms crossed over their chest, head reclining against the wall. Hero thought Henchmen would be surprised to see Hero without Villain, but Henchmen just scoffed, shaking their head.

“They never could say no to you,” they told Hero. Their eyes were burning with scorn when they fixed on Hero’s face. “What did you do? Sell your soul? You know they won’t do that for nothing.”

“I know,” said Hero softly, too tired to fight anymore. “I’m— I’m going to lie down.”

Henchmen pushed off the wall, haughty. “Do whatever you want, Hero. It’s what you always do anyways.”

#febuwhump #febuwhump26 #help them #febuwhump2024 #febuwhump prompt calendar #Whump writing #Whump trope #injured villain #hero caretaker #ish #emotional Whump #past relationship #past complicated relationship #writblr #hero villain writing #hero villain snippet #hero villain story #hero #villain #writing #orphan writing #chaotic-orphan writing #orphan #hero x villain relationship #hero x villain #villain x hero #villain x hero relationship #henchmen #supervillain #complicated relationships

[cheapfakeblood]

i love the picture of dorian gray the same way i love men: obsessively, madly, painfully.

i love the song of achilles the same way i love women: tragically, desperately, longingly.

i wonder if anyone ever loved me the same way all the time.

i wonder if anyone loved me like a book, and i wonder even more if anyone has ever stopped listening to a song, reading a book, or watching a movie simply because it reminded them of a time wherein we were so tragically and obsessively in love, a time that is now long dead and gone.

anyway.

#i ramble #dark academia #unhealthy relationships #bisexuality #literature #the picture of dorian gray #the song of achilles #love poem #past relationship #god i am not your strongest soldier

[pollyna]

au in which the opening of Admiral Kazansky's will leaves Bradley with a call he wasn't expecting to receive and all a new chapter of Maverick's life that unfolds in front of him.

('They used to date. Almost a serious thing. Tom was going to ask him to move with him or something that day Pete decided to break up with him. In his studio there are tons of video where you call him Uncle Ice. He was a good man. He did everything right and never left the heartbreak show to Mav, even that time when he asked Tom the best way to propose Penny." Sarah/Slider/one of Ice's kid tell him, in front of a cup of tea. "He had a big heart, but most of it was always dedicated to Pete Mitchell. No question asked.")

#or the universe that's more close to the movie canon #bradley rooster bradshaw #all the life that unfoldes #tom iceman kazansky #he's dead. sorry. #unrequited love #it doesn't work out but ice never stops loving or protecting mav #past icemav #past relationship #implied #pennymav

[interact-if]

is there list of IFS that have ro’s that dated mc before as in they are mc’s ex

Hi Anon,

Here's a list of IFs where they can be MC ex. If anyone else has further suggestions, feel free to reply below where we will add those that fit in the list.

Completed:

Rent-a-Vice by Natalia Theodoridou

Maria in Relics of the Lost Age: Book 1 by @jamesshawgames (Optional)

Demos:

Kade/Kara in Absentia by @absentia-if (Divorced)

Better Off by @oscarwrites

Sailor in Checkmate in 3 Moves by @checkmatein3moves (Optional)

Lucia/Lucien “Luci” in Disenchanted by @disenchantedif (Optional)

Alexandra and Eris in Event Horizon by @if-eventhorizon

Harry in Exiled from Court by @beeanca-writing (Optional)

Flor in Faith of Gods by @faithofgods (Mydra MC only, optional)

Wesley in Hollowed Minds by @shai-manahan (Optional)

In Auctorem Credimus by @in-auctorem-credimus-if (Divorced option)

Nat in Merry Crisis by @allieebobo 

Alex in Mirror Mine by @if-mirrormine

Lucy and Raf in Model Citizens: Unmasked by @thenickelportrust

Terra in My Only Sunshine (VN) by @yoshibb

Leith/Leila/Custom in Ouroboros by @honeypeabrain (Optional)

Darcy and Manihs in Professor of Magical Studies by Stephen Granade

Red in Shepherds of Haven by @shepherds-of-haven (Circle trained MC only, optional)

Leir in Swan Song by @swansong-if (Optional)

Sabir and Syfyn in The Exile by @exilethegame (Optional)

Edward in The Trials and Tribulations of Edward Harcourt by @manonamora-if (optional)

Alex in You Live and Fern by @beetlebethwrites (Previous hook up)

The Celestial in Zorlok by @gamesbyalbie 

No Demos:

Matías/Malèna in Trial by Fire by @trialbyfire-if (Optional)

#interact if asks #if: rec list #anonymous #exs #past relationship

[dramioneasks]

Hello love. Was wondering if there is any fic you can recommend me where draco and hermione had a secret relationship and broke up cause of the war and all and meet again years later (where theyre both in a good place and mature) ?

Destined to Collide Again - morallygreylover5557 - E, WIP - They had something unspoken, the lengths that they would go to each other were far. Draco Malfoy fell in love with Hermione Granger during 5th year. After everything during 6th year, the war and being torn to opposite sides to protect those they love, they finally have their chance. So why were the two still fated to never be together? Why was Draco engaged to be married just 3 months after? Why had Hermione moved on with Ron? What led to the downfall of Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy, and will 8th year be the closure they need, or the second chance they both so desperately want.

Where We Belong - cleotheo - T, 19 chapters - A tragedy robbed Hermione of the wizard she loved during the war, but she managed to move on with her life with some help from her friends. But what happens when Hermione starts seeing a face from the past? Is she imagining her dead boyfriend, or is there something more sinister at work? Is Draco really alive, or is Hermione just losing her mind?

Amor Vincit Omnia - The Beginning by Twin_Flame_Blues - M, 7 chapters - All of the flashbacks (plus a few new ones!) from the original AVO, organized in chronological order. This is essentially the prequel fic to AVO, telling the story of how Draco and Hermione got together at Hogwarts, how they kept their relationship a secret, and what they went through in the lead up to, during, and immediately after the war. I really wanted to compile all of the flashbacks from AVO into their own story so you could read it all the way through in order for a different experience than you get in AVO. The story begins during 4th year and continues through the end of Draco’s trial after the war. You can read this either if you have or have not read the original AVO, it will make sense either way, and the backstory built in this fic will remain consistent for all other works in the AVO universe, including alternate timeline fics that will pick up where this story ends. Enjoy these two idiots falling in love!

A Past Erased By: Ariel Riddle - M, 9 chapters - “His face contorted with a mixture of rage, indecision, and determination. Hermione did not care, she ran all the way up to him before flinging herself in his arms, wrapping her arms and legs tightly around him—she would never let go.” A Hermione get’s obliviated, Draco defects story.

Between the Sheets - ThedreamerandTheDance - M, 47 chapters, Words: 182,405 - ***COMPLETED***Voldemort is in control, the Golden Trio has been separated for protection, and Hermione Granger’s memory is as shaky as the tremors in her hands.But one day when a gray eyed Death Eater follows her through a local market, she quickly realizes she knows him – she just can’t recall how. But it doesn’t matter because in a matter of hours – those gray eyes change everything.

Divine Artifice By: jessiy - M, 25 chapters, Words: 162,391 - The story of how Draco Malfoy found redemption, his heart, and reclaimed his family’s honor. All thanks to a mislabeled bottle of Experimental Amortentia. Hermione/Draco

-Lisa

#anonymous #war #past relationship #breakup #meet again

[morgansunflower]

I Never Stopped Loving Her

Bruce Wayne X Jasons! Mom! Reader

Warnings:suggestive content, explicit language, whump! Reader, past child abuse, past abuse and angst

Words:1386

Arthur's notes! Third P. O. V

Batmom is Jason's blood mother. After a near death experience, Bruce realizes how much he truly does still love her. Can they overcome the past and rekindle their love?

In Gotham hospital. Jason sat on the chair by himself. Grayson sat beside his little buddy. He rubbed his shoulder to give him a small bit of comfort.

"you holding up ok?" he asked

Jason looked to Dick coldly and then back at the ground. He can't lose her. Not his Mom. She was all he had left. Bruce walks in with two ice cream cones. He hands on to Jason and the other to Grayson. Jason was pissed. He was sitting here doing nothing while his mom was unconscious. He tossed his ice cream in the trash. He wasn't mad at, Bruce. Though Bruce assumed he held blame to him for not getting to her.. Just as he blamed himself.

"Grayson let me talk to Jason.."

"k, B" Dick replied leaving his adopted dad and best friend.

"Jason I know you are angry that I wasn't there--" the heartbroken boy quickly cut him off

"is that what you think this is about?! Bruce I know you would do anything for my mom.. You care about her but--" Jason's face scrunched up from his emotions he tried so hard to be strong "I should have been th--" he chokes back sobs scared, he was only a scared little boy. "I can't.."

Bruce's heart falls in sympathy. He steps to the boy and hugs him as if he was his own son.

"it's gonna be OK chap, your Mom is going to be OK"

"please don't hurt her again" he begged "she really loves you"

Bruce's heart leaps, she still loved him. They had dated before when they were younger. Then Bruce pushed her away, because he thought that's what she needed. Two days later Y/N signed the discharge papers. She turned her head to see her deeply concerned friend. To most people could only see his blunt expressions, but she always saw more

"I'm ok.. I'll uh.. I'll see you out there"

He gave her a small genuine smile "hopefully not too soon"

Grayson did a fist bump to Jason "see you around kid"

"you too boy blunder"

Y/N's nightmares were frequent. Jason would always hug his Mom and sleep with her, so she wouldn't be alone. She felt so weak. That month, they went to the Manor for Grayson's birthday party.

"hey Y/N! Hey Jaybird! How's my little brother" Grayson asked putting him in a arm bar and rubbing his fist on his head

"hi kiddo" Y/N said

"get off asshole or I'm returning your lame ass present!"

"language son!" she scolded

He let go of Jason and hugged him "Aww you got me a present" he playfully mocked

Jason had his arm across Grayson's back and hit Dick's open palm "for you? Of course not."

Bruce, Jason and Y/N were in the living room. She was holding a glass of water. The tension was driving Jason insane.

"I'm gonna go swim!" he announced leaving. Maybe they could finally be together and Jason.. Jason could have Bruce as a real Dad Grayson could be his big brother and his Mom wouldn't be lonely.

"so how are you really doing?" Bruce asked touching her hand

"I'm fine" she answered softly

"stop lying to yourself mom.. To everyone" Jason said to her peeping his head from the other room. He looked to Bruce with a pleading expression that made Y/N's heart leap "you promise?"

"I promise son" he said gently nodding.

"what was that about?" she asked as Jason left

"you're safe with me. Tell me" he pressed on as if her telling him would spare herself and him.

She takes a shaky breath. She refuses to let herself cry! "I feel so fragile.. I'll close my eyes and I'll be right back in there.." her eyes start to shake, he takes her hand gently, giving her courage "I'm scared to even let myself fall asleep.. I don't want Jason to be.. I don't want him to feel like.."

"like he has to take care of you" he said, his tone soft as he knew exactly how she felt.

"I feel so damn weak Bruce. I promised I'd never let anything happen like this. I'd never let anyone--" she cleared her throat dramatically to try and hold back her emotions "never let anyone hurt me.. not after Willis.." Bruce rubbed her hand his anger brewing remembering that bastard... Bruce was so gentle and so.. Comforting "I told him if he ever touched me again I'd leave him.. He changed, or so I thought.. after I came home and found Jason covered in bruises.." she felt like she was a horrible mother "it was my fault" she gasp as she covers her face to muffle the cry that tried to escape "I'm a horrible mother"

"Y/N that is not true. You are a wonderful mother to Jason you saved his life and he loves you. You are strong and you I know your beautiful heart has always been in the right place.." his voice never sounded so heartbroken for her pain

Her mouth overcomes her mind telling herself to shut up "how can you say that and not expect me to fall more in love with you?" she covered her lips embarrassed by her confession. Her mind was so fragile.. Her mouth just blurted it out. "I.. I I'm sorry.. That was inappropriate of m--" he covers her lips with his thumb.

His eyes touched her heart as it rapidly beats. He takes her hand taking her to his room. What is he thinking?! She tried to keep from losing her control to cry from the rejection, she was preparing for. She doesn't know if she can survive this, again. His expression was dull but she truly wondered what was going on in his mind and in his heart.

"if you don't feel the same and am not wanting everyone to see me cry.. I.. I understand"

"you were taken for 72 hours and 5 minutes" Bruce's voice was brittle as he couldn't bare to look at her from guilt, he held her hand tighter "I almost you. I always loved you.. I was trying to protect you but I see now I've only hurt you"

His presence was making her heart heavy. She was hoping that he truly does love her but she's so scared.

"say it, again.. so I can know if it's true" she begged my voice broken. I had to know if he really did.

He turns me around his expression was instead softer with a kind smile. He lifts her hand to his lips kissing her palm.

"I am in love with you and I've been since--" I stop him by kissing him.

He kisses her deeply wrapping his arms around her. He still loves her.. He really loves her. She laid her head in his neck letting herself break in his arms that gave her a deep since of safety and love.. Something she had been lacking in.

"how's it going little-bird?" Grayson asked Jason while they were swimming in the pool.

"I don't know.. I don't think they're ever going to be together like they should" Jason admitted.

Grayson smirked at Bruce and Y/N, finally his Dad could be happy plus the best part was gaining her as a Mom ".. Really because our parents are currently making out right now"

"what?!" Jason exclaimed

Y/N and Bruce hear.. cheering? Bruce turns seeing everyone down at the pool cheering them on. He grunts and shuts the curtains. He turns around to Y/N and kisses her deeply. He parts from Y/N and touches her shirt. He had been trying to get information from the doctor on the severity of her wounds.

"no" she pleaded, they were awful.

"Y/N I need to see" he demands

"not like this. It's terrible I look terrible"

He gripped her arms carefully but firmly "don't you dare breath a word of such a horrible lie! You are beautiful, nothing could ever take your beauty away from you"

She feels a tear fall down her heart melting "okay..."

He lifts her shirt above her scars from the lacerations. She held back tears unable to look at her scars. Bruce kissed her old and new scars lovingly, she was still so beautiful.

#dick grayson #Bruce Wayne X Reader #Batmom #Crying #Jason Todd #Robin! Dick #Batfamily #Fluff #Whump #Past child abuse #Abuse #Batman #Batman X Batmom #Past relationship #Getting back together #Love #Birthday #Whump! Batmom #whump! reader #Comfort

[cod-dump]

SoapGraves: Something Might Be There

(Onesided SoapGhost, mentioned/past RoachGhost)

___

He noticed small things here and there. Lingering stares, and if they brushed fingertips passing something off Graves would take his time pulling away. A pat on the back felt warm, affectionate. Ghost noticed too and when they were alone, he brought it up.

"He's taken a liking to you."

Soap scoffed, "Sure he has."

It was like as soon as Ghost said something, Soap started to notice it more. He swore he caught Graves just daydreaming while he looked at him, just slightly smiling. Soap didn't say anything, he wasn't sure what he would say if he did. Graves was attractive, charming. Much more attainable than Ghost. Whenever he tried to be friendly, Ghost brushed him off. Sure, sometimes he would laugh at his jokes or even make dumb jokes himself, but didn't seem to really mean anything to him.

It was like Ghost, in the beginning, was cold and uncaring. Then he began to open up, started to put down his walls. Then, without warning, the walls came back up. Soap never stopped trying, but it was getting more and more discouraging. One evening, after a mission that went sour (thanks to Soap ignoring a direct order), Soap tried to ease things over with Ghost after getting chewed out by Price.

"How 'bout a drink, yeah?"

"No, I have files to fill out after you botched the mission."

It was such a cold exchange and Ghost shoved past him so harshly that Soap almost lost his footing. Soap knew Ghost was mad, but he didn't think he was that mad. His words had stabbed into Soap's heart. So he decided he would go have that drink... Alone. Soap made his way to the local bar in the town neighboring the base. He saw a few fellow taskforce members and Shadows there, plus some of the locals. Soap found himself a isolated spot at the bar and got himself a drink.

Apparently Gaz was there and noticed him. The man made his way over after excusing himself from the table he sat at.

"Hey, man. You look like you had a rough day. Or should I say week?"

Soap knocks back his drink before asking the bartender for another.

"Week has been shit, but today makes it seem like that was a walk in the park."

Gaz sucks in some air through his teeth before sitting next to him. Soap gets his drink and doesn't waste time downing half of it.

"Slow down! It's not going anywhere."

Soap humorlessly laughs, "Plan on downing as much as I can before I have to go back to the base."

"Shit, what happened?"

"Fucked up on the field. Pissed of Price and Ghost. Especially Ghost. And the good lord and everyone and their mammy knows that Ghost does not let shit go easily."

Gaz winces. He sits there silently and Soap decides to talk. To rant, actually.

"I feel like no matter what I do, if I fuck up or not, Ghost just doesn't care. He pushes me to the side whenever he doesn't have to interact with me, sometimes he doesn't even acknowledge me on the field!"

Gaz has a look on his face that was full of pity. Soap finishes his drink and asks for another.

"God, we were doing so good for a bit. Felt like there might've actually been a connection! Like he was opening up to me! Then in a blink of an eye he's back to acting like- Like-"

Soap groans loudly in frustration before hitting his head on the bar counter. Gaz pats his back, shaking his head.

"I know you like him, but I don't see it going anywhere. He's too hung up on the past to focus on the future."

"Roach died fucking ten years ago!"

Soap winces when he realizes how loud he said that. Gaz glares at the people who stared until they looked away.

"Look, he needs a therapist. That much is certain."

Soap laughs, "Damn straight."

The rest of the night goes by quickly. Soap ended up getting cut off and in his drunken state became royally pissed off. Gaz did his best to herd Soap out of the bar with the help of some buddies but the Scotsman was proving difficult. Right as they got to the door, Soap whipped around and pointed at Gaz.

"I-I'm not going back! I live here now!"

"Johnny-"

"Don't call me that! Don't you dare call me that!"

Gaz stepped back as Soap stepped closer, a fire in his eyes. The bell rings as someone walks in and Soap turns to see Graves. It was surprising to see him considering he almost never went out to drink unless he had something to celebrate. Much like Price.

"Easy, soldier."

Gaz turns to look at the Shadows who had gathered at a couple pushed together tables not long after Soap started to get rowdy. Two of the Shadows pointed at one of them who held up his phone and shrugged. Seems like Soap was at that point where the Shadows thought it was necessary to contact their superior officer. And it did seem necessary.

"How 'bout we go out and get you something to eat, how does that sound?"

Gaz was almost surprised to see Soap visibly calming down in Graves' presence. Graves looks to Gaz and the others and waves them off in a "Everything is under control" manner before turning back to Soap. Soap was swaying in place, and if a strong breeze were to flow by, he might tip over. Over a long silence, Soap nods. Graves wraps a arm around the man's soldiers and leads him out of the bar.

Soap was practically leaning his full weight against Graves as they walked down the street. They went to a Mexican restaurant and Graves got Soap some tacos. They sat at one of the outside tables, Graves figuring the cool night air would help Soap sober up. Though he doubted that he would be sober at any point in the near future.

"How's the tacos?"

"Fucking delicious," said Soap, mouth half full.

Graves takes a tip of his drink as Soap eats. Once he got to his third taco, he spoke.

"Did you drive to town?"

"Walked."

"Ah. Well, I don't see you walking back. How about I give you a lift."

Soap starts to laugh loudly, "I'm not that easy!"

Graves snorts at the combination of Soap's thickened accent and the slur in his voice.

"Not like that, Soap."

"Nuh uh. So is!" Soap leans close like he's trying to tell Graves a secret, "I see how you look at me."

Graves flushes and Soap laughs again. He then winks, "I don't mind. You can look all you want."

Graves shakes his head as Soap finishes his tacos. Graves helps Soap stand who found it hard to get out of the chair, "C'mon, let's get you back to base and in bed."

"Wow! You can't wait, can you?"

Graves seems to ignore him and leads him up the street to where his car is parked.

"Y'know, maybe I will be easy. Just this once."

Graves keeps quiet as he let's Soap ramble. At first it was very, very bad and corny pick up lines. But it turned into Soap just talking about whatever came to mind. The night sky to the cracks in the sidewalk. When they got to Graves' car Soap pointed at Graves, his finger inches from the American's nose.

"You're drunk! I'll drive!"

"Sure, fat chance."

After several minutes of struggling to wrangle Soap, Graves manages to get him in the car, Soap finally gives and sits. As Graves reached over him to buckle him in, Soap gropes his bicep and whistles.

"When we get married, you're carrying me down the aisle."

Graves mutters to himself, "Lord give me strength."

"Think he already did."

The drive to the base seemed impossibly long considering they had to stop several times for Graves to get Soap in the seat after he took his seat belt off. When they finally got to base and were walking in, Soap stopped and grabbed Graves by his shoulders.

"Let's go on a date."

Graves shakes his head, a fond look on his face, "Try asking me that again when you're sober."

Soap stares at Gravea before he twirls in place. After spinning three times and almost falling, he stops and turns to Graves.

"I'm sober now! How about a date?"

"Soap, you're still drunk."

Soap frowns, "Oh..."

Graves laughs and puts a arm on Soap's shoulders, "C'mon, time for bed."

It was safe to say that they did not make it to the barracks with Soap's dignity in tack. Graves felt bad for him as he managed to get to Soap's room finally. He had to take Soap's shoes off and force him to lay down in bed. Soap kept insisting that he wasn't tired, but as soon as his head hit the pillow, he was out. And when he woke with his head pounding and a sense of dread, he knew he acted like an idiot the previous night.

He tried to piece together what all had happened the night before but after his fifth drink everything went black. He remembered Gaz being there so he decided to go talk to him about what happened. It took him a minute to find him considering his phone was dead, but he eventually found him in the gym. Gaz noticed him quickly and walked over to him.

"Hey man, how you feel?"

"Like shit. Listen, I do not remember shit about last night. Do you know if I did anything stupid?"

A Shadow laughs loudly, "Did you do anything stupid?"

Soap turns and Gaz glares, "I got this, Rico. Go mind your own business."

The Shadow holds his hands up and leaves them be while snickering. Soap turns back to Gaz, "What happened?!"

"Well, you had a bit too much and, um, started to get a bit much to handle so, uh, someone called Graves to come get you. That happened after you made several comments about Ghost being um... Actually, I didn't really understand what you were saying."

Soap's eyes widen, "No..."

"Yea..."

"Oh god... What else happened?"

"Don't know. After Graves got you no one knows what happened except when he took you to your room. Farah said you were singing. Quite horribly, might I add."

Soap covers his face, "I was an ass to Graves, I just know it."

"Most likely."

Soap groans. Something tells him his actions from last night were going to bite him in the ass.

#john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #phillip graves #fanfic #call of duty #i wrote this instead of sleeping #one sided feelings #past relationship #soap x graves #soapgraves #simon ghost riley #ghost x roach (mentioned) #modern warfare

[quotationsworld]

I know I'll always think of you with something like hurt and nostalgia — and great deal of love.

— Sylvia Plath, Letters of Sylvia Plath, Volume I: 1940-1956

#romance #romantic love #love #romantic feelings #emotional intimacy #lost love #past love #past lover #past lovers #past relationship #affection #lovesick #lovesickness #love hurts #hurt #nostalgia #longing #sadness #memories #looking back #feelings #emotions #grief #loss #separation #break up #broken heart #heartache #heartbreak #sylvia plath

[duaghterofstories]

Reminders of Love

Day Five of Tamlin Appreciation Week: History

@tamlinweek2023

Past Tamsand

Tamlin looked at Rhysand silently. 

“Hello Tammy-Lin.” said Rhysand softly, his old nickname for Tamlin still sounding so natural in his mouth, still so strangely fond.

“Don’t call me that.” said Tamlin, stepping back and shutting the door.

Rhysand reached out to stop the door from closing. “Please let me in Tammy– er, Tamlin. High Lord.” He made puppy dog eyes, which Tamlin could never refuse, even now. “Please.”

Tamlin wondered if Rhysand knew he was weak to his puppy dog eyes, and opened the door wider. Rhysand walked in, smiling, as if he’d won something.

“What do you want, Rhysand?” Tamlin asked, standing back from the older.

 Rhysand looked sad, for some reason. “You used to call me Rhysie.” he stepped forward.

Tamlin laughed, shaking his head. “You haven’t been my Rhysie since my family died.” he said, stepping back in annoyance.

“You’re still my Tammy-Lin, even since my family died.” Rhysand said, moving forward again. This time Tamlin didn’t step back, allowing Rhysand to put his hand on Tamlin’s cheek. Like the idiot he was, Tamlin tilted his head to the side, allowing it to rest on Rhysand’s palm.

“Hello my beloved Tammy-Lin.” Rhsyand said, leaning in and pressing his mouth to Tamlin’s.

Tamlin pushed him back. “You have a mate, a wife.” he said softly. “We must not do this. Not anymore.” He smiled sadly and then stepped back. “Why are you here?”

“You.” Rhysand walked forward again.

Tamlin stepped back more. “You should not.”

Rhysand scowled. “You killed my family–”

“Then you killed mine.” Tamlin snapped back. “If all you did coming here was so guilt trip me, then I don’t care for you to say.”

Rhysand frowned at him. “Do you really not care about me?”

“No.” Tamlin said. It was a lie, of course, but he doubted Rhysand would care to correct him.

Rhysand nodded slowly. “I see then.” He walked away silently. Then he turned. “Good bye Tammy-Lin. I love you still.”

Tamlin watched Rhysand leave, and then turned around and walking back up the stairs.

He opened the door to the office and walked inside.

He picked up a key off the shelf, walking to a portrait on the wall. He opened the portrait from the wall and unlocked the wall behind it.

Inside the wall was a safe that held three albums that he would never share with anyone. No matter what, this was private and a secret. He would not share it.

He picked up the first album and opened it. Inside, on the first page, was a picture of him and Rhysand. They were only a  couple decades into their friendship. Rhysand was pressing a kiss to his cheek. ~~

“My Rhysie!! Look what I found?” Tamlin ran toward his best friend, who was sitting on a cliff at the edge of Pyrithian.

“What is it?” asked Rhysand, turning to look at the Spring Prince.

Tamlin opened his hands to show Rhysand a small crab that was crawling over his hands.

“That’s so cool. You’re so good at finding things, my Tammy-Lin.” Rhysand’s eyes were wide.

Tamlin nodded happily. “Isn’t it so cute.”

“Not as cute as you.” Rhysand joked, pressing a kiss to Tamlin’s cheek.

Tamlin flushed deeply.

“Tamlin, come on, you have to go to bed soon.” his mother called from behind them.

Tamlin looked at Rhysand and waved, giving him the crab to Rhysand.

“Take care of it.” he said.

“I will.” said Rhysand solemnly.

~~

Tamlin picked up the photo and ripped it in half angrily, throwing the side that had Rhysand into the fire, watching it burn silently.

He looked at the other two binders, growing at them and staring at himself. Young and hopeful. Full of love for his best friend.

He reached into the safe and took the binders, throwing them into the fire.

“Goodbye Rhysand.” Tamlin said, walking out of the room as the binders burned.

He only slightly regretted it.

#tamlin #rhysand #pro tamlin #tamsand #tamlinweek2023 #tamlin week 2023 #tamsand angst #angst #past relationship #remenicing

[karihighman]

did a couple different photo edits b/c that quote from rmdrk fits tim’s romantic journey so well. he went from 💔➡️❤️ b/c of lucy & i think that’s beautiful. it says a lot about their relationship & how impactful it’s been not only to her but to him as well.

#the rookie #lucy chen #tim bradford #chenford #sorry isabel #sorry rachel #sorry ashley #heartbroken #heartfelt #tim loves lucy #lucy loves tim #he’s the most important relationship in her life #they’re in love <3 #isabel bradford #rachel hall #ashley mcgrady #past relationship #rm drake #rm drk #love quotes #photo edit #i had to okay

[chaotic-orphan]

Heroic Betrayal: part five

Read part one here

Continued from this point here

*~*~*~*~*

What kind of idiot were they to be stuck here? Hero should have told Sidekick when they got the tip about Villain… they should have told them that they were going to rough Villain up a bit, get the information they needed on Other Villain’s whereabouts and beat the shit out of them. Just a little revenge for touching a hair on Sidekick’s innocent head.

Even if they managed to catch Villain and mete out justice on Other Villain, they would have beaten the ever-living shit out of the wrong person, and that was something Hero didn’t want to think about in that moment.

That Flynn…

Their Flynn was the one who put Sidekick in the med bay.

Sidekick, who was still in the med bay, where Hero should be, but no. Instead, they were here, powerless and bleeding and it was all their fault.

Hero didn’t know how long they sat and stewed on that thought. Long enough that their nose stopped bleeding anyway. Hero tentatively reached up to their upper lip, their hand came away from it dry, the blood caked and flaked onto their face now.

“What happened to your face?” Hero angled their head down from where they stared at the ceiling to see Flynn standing on the other side of the cell bars.

“Fuck off, Red,” Hero grumbled, and fought the wince at their casual nickname for Flynn slipping out of their lips. “I’m not in the mood.”

A jangle of keys and the cell door was open, footsteps approaching Hero in their cot in the corner. Hero’s heart ached with every beat as Flynn came into their line of sight, concern drawing his features together.

How many times had they seen that same concern on his face? Told Hero it was going to be okay. Cleaned their wounds, laughed about the bruises the next day?

How much of it was a lie? — Hero wanted to ask. The question burned a hole on the tip of their tongue, but they didn’t dare speak it. They just stared up at the ceiling as best they could.

“What? You piss someone off already?”

Hero sighed. Flynn sat on the edge of the bed, moving closer to Hero, his hands going to inspect the damage like he so often did. It made something ache in Hero’s chest. Hero slapped their hands away, tears burning in the back of their eyes.

“Don’t fucking touch me, Flynn,” Hero bit out. “You don’t get to betray me and then pretend to be my friend and concerned about me.”

Flynn stared; eyes sad as he said: “okay. Guess I deserve that.”

“You deserve so much more,” Hero said, eyes burning with hatred, voice barely above a whisper. “How many of our friends died because of you? Hmm?”

“Hero, not all of it–” Flynn began then stopped, huffed out a breath of air through his nose, hand running through his hair. “Not all of it was a lie. I am your friend. I do care about you.”

“Oh really? Then you’d never use your power on me, right?” Hero demanded, echoing back Flynn’s words against him. Flynn had the audacity to even look guilty at that, and Hero leaned forwards, hands on Flynn’s as they said: “I forgive you, okay. I forgive you if you let me go. Flynn, please.”

Flynn’s eyebrows knit together, clearly conflicted but he said nothing. After a moment, Hero let out a breath of disbelief and sat back against the wall again.

“Yeah,” Hero scoffed, “we’re friends.”

“You have blood all over your face, Hero. You really want to just leave it?”

“Why the hell not?” Hero said, trying to force their tone into some form of neutrality.

Flynn sighed and stood up from the cot. “Supervillain wants an audience with you. I was sent to retrieve you.”

Hero rolled their eyes but got to their feet no less. “Of course,” they said, pushing past Flynn to the door. “God help you actually wanted to see how I was doing.”

“Hero—”

“I don’t want to talk to you anymore. Let’s just go.”

“Hero that’s not—”

Before they could get the fourth word out, Hero had whirled on them eyes blazing hotter than any hells furnace.

“Fair?!” They asked incredulously, their voice jumping two pitches at the sheer audacity of the word on their lips. “Is that what you were going to say?”

Flynn didn’t back down this time. Instead he stepped forward, looking down his nose at Hero.

“Yes. That is what I was going to say.”

“You are unbelievable!” Hero snapped matching Flynn with a step forward of their own. They held their cuffed hands up in Flynn’s face as if to remind him exactly why Hero was there in the first place. “If you’re my friend you’ll take these off.”

“Hero you know I can’t—”

Hero didn’t let him finish. Instead they placed their palms on Flynn’s chest and shoved them as hard as they could. Flynn looked about as bothered as if a fly had flown into the room.

“I can’t uncuff you Hero,” Hero said, lowering their voice to mimic Flynn’s and shoving him back again. “I can’t let you go Hero.” And again. “I can’t fucking think—” shove “for myself” shove “Hero.”

Hero glared up at Flynn trying to fight back the frustrated tears building behind her eyes. Anger was easier to focus on in the moment rather than that vast aching pit twisting uncomfortably in their gut.

“But I promise I’m your friend, Hero,” Hero mocked, shoving him back again until Flynn’s back hit off the wall. Flynn’s eyebrows curved down and it left a pang in Hero’s chest that they hated. “And then you have the gall to look hurt. As if I betrayed you.”

Hero ignored the tears that fell at the last sentence, or at least tried to. They tried to be firm and act tough, but saying the betrayal out loud, acknowledging it when it was just the two of them was too much.

“Would you trust me if the roles were reversed?” Hero asked, not even wanting to look at Flynn for the answer. The more they saw the conflict on his face the harder it was to hate him. Flynn however, didn’t take this into consideration when he put his hand on Hero’s face and tilted it back to face him.

Hero narrowed their eyes at him, pushing every ounce of anger into their gaze hoping they would turn into actual daggers and stab him.

“No,” Flynn breathed softly, thumb wiping away the tear streaks from Hero’s face. “I wouldn’t trust you if the roles were reversed, but I would hear you out of you tried to explain it to me.”

“And if I took you to Supervillain?!” Hero asked, their voice low and furious as they stepped out of Flynn’s touch. “The enemy we’ve been trying to stop for months?”

“You.”

“What?!” Hero demanded hotly.

Flynn’s gaze hardened, his face devoid of all emotion now except for his usual mask of easy confidence, smirk on his lips as if he didn’t just wipe Hero’s tears away.

“The enemy you’ve been trying to stop for months,” Flynn said again taking a step forward, a dangerous glint in his eyes. Hero matched his step with one back, cautious, hackles raised. “I mean the man you borderline obsessed over, Hero. Don’t you want to meet the genius who eluded you, the great detective, for all that time?”

“Not particularly,” Hero said through gritted teeth, with another step back that Flynn matched, getting closer and closer each time.

“That’s what you called him though, right? A genius,” Flynn teased, his grin showing his teeth. “I mean, fuck, Hero some of the moves he made you were damn right impressed with. You even said you’d have done exactly the same thing if—”

“I was in his position,” Hero cut Flynn off. Flynn’s smirk grew wider as he took another step closer, dipping his head conspiratorially.

“Now you can be,” said Flynn with a wide gesture of his hands. Hero followed his hand to the cell door that they happened to be right beside. Hero was keenly aware that Flynn was backing them towards the door the whole time. “Even just for the intellectual stimulation if nothing else.”

“Go fuck yourself, Flynn. I’m not willingly walking into the Lion’s den.”

Flynn’s eyelids fell half over his eyes. “It is less dignified to be dragged, Hero, but if you insist.”

Flynn made a grab for Hero’s arm but they dodged at the last minute, turning to shoulder Flynn out of the way. Flynn didn’t so much as budge from his spot. Instead he caught Hero by the strap of their scabbard and yanked them into Flynn’s chest.

“The hard way, wonderful. I wouldn’t expect any less of you Hero,” Flynn said, wrapping an arm over Hero's chest and keeping them close as they stepped out of the cell, pushing Hero forward with their own body weight. “Let's go introduce you to Supervillain.”

*~*~*~*~*

Continued here

The orphanage roll call (tag-list): @shywhumpauthor (lmk if you want to be added/removed)

#writblr #hero villain writing #hero villain snippet #hero villain story #heroic betrayal #HB #hero #villain #writing #orphan writing #whump writing #orphan #betrayed hero #hero betrayed #Flynn #Flynn the Villain #Hero turned villain #Traitor hero #hero and villain #heroes and villains #hero x villain #villain x hero #villains and heroes #hero x other hero #implied relationship #Past relationship implied #past relationship #past friends #supervillain #hero x hero

[squishablesunbeam]

Please some more care and comfort for the defiant whumpee!!

Prev. Next

This whumpee is so damn stubborn! I swear he tried to walk out on caretaker a dozen times! Their relationship history also morphed a little! And they have names now :) I hope you like!

TW: defiant whumpee, mention of recent past noncon, wound care, hurt/comfort

Cameron hurried to stand up off the floor when he heard the quiet rattle of the bathroom door handle slowly turning. He swiped a hand across his tear streaked face, scrambled to his feet and waited. He didn't exactly know what to do here but the last thing Levi needed were Cameron's tears right now.

He'd been raped.

Levi hadn't said the words but the truth of it was littered across every inch of his battered body. He couldn't deny it if he tried. It was the outline of so many fingers standing out on Levi's skin that would haunt him for the rest of his nights.

Cameron swallowed bile and tried to keep his composure as the door eased open.

Levi stood in the sickly orange light of the bathroom, his skin was now flushed a deep red from what must have been the scalding heat of the water. He didn't look better. Cameron was hoping the shower would help but Levi just looked beat to hell, exhausted and, still bleeding.

"Uh, I can't reach."

Cameron shook himself, trying to not stare at the marks that littered Levi's body, the haphazard bandages that he'd tried his best to apply, and finally looked to his eyes. Levi wouldn't look at him. HIs eyes cast to the side, his shoulders hunched. Shame that didn't belong to him vibrating off his body in thick, heavy waves.

He gestured to his back, turning slightly so Cameron could see. Bright red blood tracked down from a deep gash in the middle of his back and a few smaller ones, soaking into the towel wrapped around Levi's waist.

"Oh. Um. Can I- do you mind if I help you?"

Levi just left the door open and turned to walk back to the toilet, sitting on the closed lid. Cameron took that as the only assent he would be getting.

He stepped carefully into the steam filled bathroom and his lungs immediately tried to close. It felt constricting in this small space, stifling. Levi was shivering despite the cloying heat.

He looked so small right now. Half bent over, eyes staring straight at the wall. He clearly didn't want to be here, with Cameron, but he simply had nowhere else to go. Guilt and an old ache twisted in his heart. Levi may have walked out months ago, but Cameron still wanted him to know he could come to him. That Cameron's home, that Cameron, was a safe place for Levi to land. No matter what.

"Hey, how about we go out to the living room? It'll be more comfortable. You can lay down on the couch and I'll take care of those cuts. That sound okay?"

Levi finally looked up, "Those? More than one?"

Cameron tried to turn his wince into a reassuring smile and nodded, "Yeah, there's a few."

It took more than a minute for Levi to move. He finally pulled in a slow breath and stood. Cameron didn't miss the shaking that had settled heavily into his body, the way he reached for the walls as he shuffled forward.

"Go on," Cameron made sure Levi would stay upright before stepping away, "I'm going to grab you some clean sweatpants."

Levi stopped and jerked his head up.

"No. Thank you but I'll just ruin them. My clothes are fine. Your towel is already all bloody."

He looked down at where his torn fingers gripped the soft cotton, blood smeared and clashing violently with the pearl white.

"Levi, I don't care about a fucking towel. Or the clothes. I'm getting you warm and clean and you're going to be happy about it."

Levi actually smirked at that, huffing out a small, hitched breath and turning towards the living room again. Cameron couldn't help but breathe out a relived sigh.

Okay.

He can do this.

One thing at a time.

He gathered up the softest sweatpants he could find and headed back out.

Levi was just standing there, looking down at the beige couch, no doubt thinking he'd ruin that too.

"Hey."

Levi flinched, and Cameron swallowed hard.

"I'm sorry. But, um, how about you put these on and lay down on your stomach and I'll take care of your back."

Levi sucked in a deep breath, still not moving towards the couch.

"Can you put something down. Uh, you know, in case I bleed through?"

Cameron paused and took a minute, looking over Levi again. He had one arm gently holding his severely bruised ribs and he couldn't seem to stand up fully straight.

"Hey, are you su-"

"No hospitals. I'll be fine. It's just a little blood. But I don't want it getting on your damn couch, okay?"

Cameron sighed and set down the clothes.

"Yeah, okay. I'll go get another towel. You put these on."

When he came back, Levi was still standing there, swaying in the same spot but with the sweats on and the towel hanging loosely in his hands. Cameron walked up quietly, gently taking the bloody towel and laying down the clean one on the couch. He let his hand rest softly on Levi's shoulder until he finally glanced up, just barely meeting Cameron's eyes.

"I'm sorry. You're trying to help and- You don't need this. I should go."

"There's no reason for you to go. I'm glad you came here, Levi. I am. You can stay here for as long as you need, okay?"

Levi could never stand being cared for, even when they were...whatever they were to each other. It always made him feel vulnerable and small. He'd get the flu and Cameron wouldn't find out for days later, choosing to suffer in solitude rather than be a "burden". Cameron was only able to break through that guard a few times over the years. It was formidable to say the least.

Levi must have been dead on his feet because he actually allowed Cameron to guide him onto his stomach. He almost let his head rest on the small pillow before jerking up again, groaning at the quick movement.

"Levi, please. I swear to you. I don't care about the pillow. I don't care if blood gets on anything at all. I just want you to rest."

His muscles all across his back were stiff and trembling when Cameron knelt down, letting his fingers trail lightly through Levi's hair and guiding his head to the pillow. Cameron didn't want to push. He didn't want anything to feel forced at all. This had to be Levi's choice or he'd walk right out that door.

But for god sake, just lay down.

Finally, Levi's cheek rested against the soft cushion and he let his body sink.

Cameron sat down on the coffee table and opened up the first aid kit.

Goddamn. He must have been dragged across broken glass for his back to look like this. There were still glass shards, buried angry and red into his bruised back.

"Okay, there's a few cuts but this shouldn't take too long."

Levi nodded. His eyes struggling against the heavy bruising on his face to stay as wide open as possible, tracking every movement of Cameron's hands. His own hands curled into tight fists.

Cameron couldn't fix what those monsters did to Levi, but he could at least try to do this. It wasn't much but it was something.

He leaned forward and Levi stiffened.

"You're okay. I need to get this glass out and put on some antibiotic cream. I'll have to use the butterfly bandages on two of them. I'm sorry. I don't know how to, like, sew up a cut, or anything. I don't want to hurt you."

"'S okay," Levi whispered and finally let his eyes close.

That was easier somehow. Cameron couldn't say why.

He gently pulled out the small shards of glass with a pair of tweezers, cringing at every small whimper from Levi, and bandaged up the ones he could. Then he took a warm, damp washcloth and started to carefully dab up the blood off Levi's skin.

The moment the warm cloth hit his back, Levi sighed.

Cameron glanced at him, his tight fists loosing up just a little bit.

God, he must be so exhausted.

Cameron took longer than he had to with the warm cloth, slowly drawing it over Levi's back and shoulders until the crease set deep between his eyebrows eventually smoothed out.

Finally, Cameron stood and pulled the soft throw blanket over Levi's freshly bandaged back. He wanted to lean down and kiss his hair but that wasn't their relationship anymore. Hasn't been for a long time.

He sighed fondly and went to step away.

"Cam?"

Cameron turned, "I'm here."

"Could you stay?"

Levi's eyes were looking everywhere but at Cameron, his fist closing tight again at his hesitation.

"I'm not going anywhere. Let me just grab some ice and I'll be right back."

Cameron raced quietly to the kitchen and grabbed an ice pack and small towel and ran right back to Levi's side. He moved to sit in the only spot left on the couch, tucked in near Levi's head. Cameron was careful not to sit too close. He wanted to be near but if Levi didn't want to be touched, he would honor that.

He was trying to figure out how to offer the ice pack to him when Levi huffed out an irritated breath, more at himself than at Cameron, and drew himself up, curling on his side and resting his head on Cameron's lap.

He groaned as his body settled into the new position. He reached for the ice and pressed it up against his ribs, hissing at the cold on his overheating skin. Cameron frowned, he'd thought the ice would be for his face. They needed more ice packs.

"Thank you," he heard Levi whisper.

Cameron finally got over the shock of Levi actually choosing the close contact and let his hand drop to his head, his fingers carding through Levi's hair.

Levi sighed deeply and Cameron couldn't help but smile down at him.

"You're welcome. You sleep now. I'll be here when you wake up."

Cameron played idly with his hair, watching for his breathing to finally even out and for Levi to drop into much needed sleep.

He could only hope it was a dreamless one.

#defiant whumpee #mentions of past noncon #wound care #past relationship #whump #barely recovering whumpee #blood tw #comfort #i tried!

[folk-ever-lore]

I Forgot That You Existed

Marinette Dupain-Cheng had left Paris as soon as she could. Once Hawkmoth had been defeated and collège was over, she had said goodbye to the city she had once protected and left for University in the United States. 

It hadn’t been an easy decision but it had been the right one. Being forced into becoming a child superhero and protecting an entire city at such a young age was bound to leave her with at least some ill will towards Paris. Of course, there was also the issue of Adrien Agreste. 

Adrien, sweet perfect Adrien Agreste. Once she’d been head over heels in love with him, or so she’d believed. In reality it had been an extremely unhealthy obsession that had led to the decline of her mental health as she was willing to do anything in order to get him to like her back. Including, but not limited to, stealing his phone, dressing up as a waiter to gain access to his house and stalking him whenever he was around another girl. 

When she’d sat down and realised what she had become, Marinette’s first course of action was to spend as little time around him as possible. And thus moving as far away as possible. Gotham was pretty far away from Paris, right? 

All in all the move, although to the most crime infested city in the world, had been the right thing for her and her life. She didn’t regret it at all. 

Now she had an amazing husband who she loved more than anything (in a completely healthy way), and a whole other crazy family that came with Jason. She, of course, kept in touch with her own family but the Waynes were also her family now. 

She tried her best to attend her weekly therapy lessons because they were a godsend, but sometimes the crime in Gotham just didn’t allow it. Yes, she had chosen to fight crime again. But that was the important part. She chose to fight crime again with Jason’s family, their family. 

Although she didn’t use the miraculous anymore, just watch over them, she had chosen the moniker Ladybird to make a nod to her past hero identity. 

And although this had all been a hugely positive thing for Marinette, she hadn’t been expecting the identity crisis the first time she saw Adrien Agreste in over five years. Adrien Agreste and his wife, an overly blonde model just like him. 

“Marinette,” he cried happily as he came over to her at the latest Wayne Gala. “It’s been so long. I’ve missed you.”

She nodded politely at him. “Adrien. I take it this must be your wife? It’s nice to meet you Mrs Agreste.”

“Please, just call me Sophie,” the woman insisted. 

“Well, it’s nice to meet you Sophie. I’m Marinette. I went to school with Adrien.”

And as the night went on nothing happened. She didn’t feel drawn to Adrien, didn’t hate him, didn’t want to avoid him, didn’t want to profess her love to him. Nothing. Neutral. Nice 

When the night was over, and the guests were gone, the first thing Jason did was check on his wife. “Are you okay? I know that couldn’t have been easy for you.”

“It wasn’t easy,” she admitted. “But I think it went okay. I can’t ever see us being friends, but I don’t think there’s any issues there anymore.”

“That’s great,” he replied with a grin, happy to support the woman he loved in any possible way. “It means that you’ve completely moved on from that moment of time mentally. I’m so proud of you!”

Marinette cuddled up into him. “Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you for supporting me. Thank you so much. You mean the world to be.”

“And you mean the world to me too, Pixie. I love you so much.”

“I love you too.”

#maribat #marinette dupain cheng #jason todd #jasonette #marinette x jason #jason x marinette #adrien agreste #past relationship #new relationship #old friends #fluff #years on #mlb x dc #dc x mlb #marinette dupain-cheng maribat #jason todd maribat

[kittyball23]

Sleepless Nights (a Hotel Transylvania fanfic)

Summary: Drac has some difficulty sleeping, as memories of a certain night exactly 124 years ago haunts his thoughts

__________________________________________

It was a beautiful day.

The sun was brilliantly shining above. Not a cloud dotted the sky. Birds were chirping from their perch in the trees. And, being nocturnal, such a beautiful day was utilized by monsters all around Hotel Transylvania, who were dozing contently about.

Well, except for a certain vampire.

Unlike his beloved, Drac could not succumb to the call of sleep, no matter how drowsy he felt, or how much his eyelids were drooping. There was that niggling thought - a memory, a reminder – that persisted to keep him awake. One that he had not been able to erase ever since that one, singular, terrible night. A night that had happened exactly 124 years ago.

It was incredulous to Drac, how it felt as though not a day had passed since then. And yet, so much did, with a lot of it leading to the actions he had taken and events that had occurred. But, as his mind so cruelly reminded him, it had all stemmed from that one sole event. If that hadn’t happened, who knew how things would have turned out for him, for Mavis… for his wife…

As if the universe had been cued to his internal thoughts, the form cuddled next to him suddenly shifted, soft, drowsy hands flitting lightly over his bare chest accompanied by a light sigh-like moan. The Count felt some of the dark thoughts lift from him in a relieving wave, leaving Drac with only fondness towards the woman resting upon his body. The warmth she radiated from her human self seeped into him like warm honey, relaxing some of the tension that had begun to overtake his muscles. He peered down at Ericka now and sighed, somewhat envious, marveling at how easily she slept and how peaceful she looked in that moment, comforted both by the blanket draped across them as well as the gentle contact of their skins, untroubled.

Well, a part of him did remind himself that Ericka was not without her own troubles, namely, her struggle with the ordeal on the cruise and family name. Sure, the woman had proven her worth in the heroic act of saving Drac from the Kraken’s clutches and standing up against the legacy that her great-grandfather had brainwashed her to believe in for so long. But the victory did not entirely satisfy Ericka. She was plagued with the horror of what she was about to let happen, to lose a love… a zing… It was a thing that monsters wouldn’t dare to imagine. But Drac didn’t have to.

With a sigh, he detached himself from Ericka, gently moving her away so not to disturb her slumber and draping the sheets over her form when he rose from the bed. Slipping on his pajama pants for some decency, he padded over to the window in the other room, drawing back the curtains to get a view of the outdoors. Drac had to admit that most of his son-in-law’s ideas were rather nonsensical, but he actually could appreciate the idea for repaneling the hotel’s windows with UV protective glass. In that way, the Count could now stand before the sun’s rays indoors without burning and take a look out at the perfect day that he should have been asleep to. This day that was as bright and cheery and as opposite as it could get from Drac’s current mood.

When he had thought of his wife, it had not been the slumbering beauty that still remained dozing as peacefully content as ever upon their bed. True, they were wed, with the golden bands around each other ring fingers to prove it, but Drac instead had the first woman who had stolen his heart and made him feel that giddy, euphoric sensation, so ideal it felt almost unreal.

Martha.

Her name alone still brought such a pang of sadness to his heart, a tightness that squeezed him, a stinging that pricked his skin, a dryness that parched his throat… and a shudder that went down his spine as he recalled those last, horrible moments he had seen her. The despair in her eyes. The fear…

Drac suddenly wished he was back in the bed, gliding his fingers over the smooth, rosy expanse that was Ericka’s skin. Caressing her soothed his mind, allowing him to focus on something other than his past trauma. But despite this effort, his mind kept wandering back to the memories, bringing them right back into his consciousness, and so much more than ever today.

The Count instead settled for rubbing his hands up and down his arms, the motion working not quite in the same way but still providing the comfort that he sought nonetheless. It's not that he didn't want to forget. It was the last thing he wanted to do. How could he forget his zing? She had meant the world to him, and still did, even in her absence. But it was that said absence that filled him with dread, made him uneasy and reminded him that this was the truth he was living. And nothing could be done to change it.

Drac shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose and willing himself to remember that he still had Martha in his life. Not her in her physical, living form, but in the family around him. Being her daughter, Mavis was a constant reminder of that fact, inheriting her mother’s grace and beauty, as well as her everlasting kindness. Little Dennis also shared some characteristics as his grandmother. Drac could smile to himself recalling certain expressions the boy made that were a spitting image of the woman, or the way his blue eyes sparkled up at him with admiration.

Aside from his family, Drac also had material reminders of his late wife. The portrait that he’d managed to salvage from the fire had captured them both in their prime, at a time where their love was young and hardships were still ages away. For years he had kept it in his room, approaching it and gazing upon her still, painted figure, recalling the wonderful memories he’d shared with her and held dear to his heart. His old ring was another material reminder of her, a wedding band with a beautiful red gemstone on top that sparkled elegantly in the light. She had had one just like it, and his had found residence on the finger of his left hand for over a century before he was able to remove it and finally move on. And then, he thought, there was also the gorgeous little ukulele that was sitting upon his desk now, looking as fresh out of the box as it was so long ago when he received it as a gift from Martha, a memento of their time spent in paradise (or Hawaii as one may better know it as) after they first met and began dating.

With sluggish steps, he approached the desk, running his hands longingly over the taut strings and wooden surface of the instrument. Many a time he had used it as a one-man ‘concert’ to sing various songs for Martha, Mavis, and Dennis. Why, just the other night his grandson had asked him how exactly it was that it was played, and Drac had gladly begun the process of carefully teaching Dennis how to pluck out melodious chords, in hopes that the boy would one day become as skilled as he was. The thought putting a smirk onto his face, Drac picked the instrument up and went back to sit at the window, cradling the ukulele in his lap. He very well remembered the first time he had played the instrument. It was for Martha, right at the one-week anniversary of their relationship. On automatic, his fingers resumed the position that they had taken upon the ukulele strings for that simple little song he’d tuned out for her, and began to play it out again. What resulted was a soft, sweet melody, etching itself into his mind and heart. The melody brought with it a wave of nostalgia, cheery but melancholic at the same time, bringing forth a pool of fresh tears that began to brim at the corners of his eyes. As his mind wandered, his fingers continued their caressing dance on the strings, and soon they brought the sweet little song to an end in a soft, tender crescendo.

A satisfied sigh escaped his lips in that moment, the soft sound accompanied by an identical sigh from somewhere behind him. Turning towards the source in sudden bewilderment, he came face-to-face with Ericka. She stood shyly a few paces away, having seemingly just awakened. Neither said anything for a moment, allowing Drac the time to let his gaze roam over her, down from the petite bare feet to the tussled platinum-blonde curls on her bed-head. Rather than a robe, the woman had vouched for donning his satin pajama top, the article of clothing fitting her just about as well as a short dress, given Drac’s difference in height that allowed its hems to extend enough so that it hung above her knees. The sleeves dangled a bit loosely, the buttons having been fastened in a haste, as evident by how the top few had remained undone in favor of ensuring the ones in the middle were properly hooked so to cover her figure. The twinkle in her blue eyes was indicative to him that she was much more alert than what her tired appearance may have been giving off.

Conscious of his gaze, Ericka shifted her weight upon her feet, interpreting it as scrutiny for interrupting him at what appeared to be a private moment. She bit her lip, and began to speak ever so timidly.

“I… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you…” She trailed off, not knowing what else to say.

But it turned out she didn’t need to search for any more words. Gathering his senses, Drac smiled kindly at her, setting down the ukulele and approaching the woman to give her an appropriate greeting kiss.

“Don’t worry about it, honeybat,” he assured when they parted, tenderly caressing her cheek. “I should be the one apologizing. I did not mean to awaken you.”

Ericka shook her head. “You didn’t, Drac,” she whispered. “Have you just… ever had one of those sleepless nights?”

Drac nodded, averting his eyes as he felt his mood going back to that cloud of melancholic sorrow that seemed to want to engulf him once more. “Yes,” he finally muttered. “I have." He dared a glance up to gage her reaction, and could see that same look of despondency reflected back in her eyes. But along with it was a look of knowing that made Drac feel vulnerable under her gaze. She was aware why it was that he was having difficulty drifting off tonight. Ericka had been informed early on in their relationship of the tragedy that had occurred so long ago, scarring her husband’s soul permanently as the memory of it all still weighed down heavily upon him. The blame and regret, and the hand of time that kept ticking on, unfazed, and unable to reverse. Yet even with such an emotional wound, Drac never failed to show Ericka every sign of how he was still able to live fully and find happiness. The wound would not heal entirely, but taking life one day at a time with the friends and family he loved would in no doubt help dull that pain. Cherishing his experiences with Mavis, Dennis, Ericka, the Pack, even the boisterous Johnny acted as a balm to his spirits, uplifting them from the shadows and keeping the dark thoughts at bay.

It was all this and more that was communicated between she and the vampire in that one flit of an instance that their gazes locked together; the expression in Ericka’s eyes showing just how deeply she empathized with the man and how willing she was to offer her support and love without hesitation if needed. And he was incredibly grateful, honored even, to be able to call the Van Helsing woman his zing. No matter if he was his second, she was his zing all the same, and would always be.

Unbeknownst to the man, a small smile had begun to tug at the corner of his lips, Drac not having felt it until his cheeks began to ache slightly in response with how widely it had grown. Ericka reciprocated the smile with one of her own.

“And besides,” she said, a twinkle in her eyes, “It was beautiful. You have a real talent.”

Drac chuckled bashfully at the compliment. "I appreciate it, my love." Then, a thought entered the Count’s mind, and he smirked as he picked up the ukulele again. “I could teach you someday, you know.”

Ericka grinned, looking down at the instrument in his hands and seeming to give the idea some good consideration before she spoke again. “That really would be pretty cool,” she said, her fingers grazing the top of the strings, “but I think that I’d rather just listen for now.”

The vampire nodded understandingly.  “As you wish, my love." Seating himself back down at the desk, he cradled the ukulele back into his lap and had his fingers resume the position anew. Strumming lightly, he began playing the same tune yet again, this time feeling much more at ease in doing so. Ericka sighed in contentment once more, coming up behind Drac and snaking her arms around his neck. She rested her chin atop his head, a slight sway in her stance as the music lulled the both of them into a peaceful state of serenity.

#hotel transylvania #dracula #ericka van helsing #memories #past relationship #ukulele #sleep depravity #moving on #bittersweet #fanfiction #kittyball writes

[fuckingwhateverdude]

@nosebleedclub // nov. #30

#november is already OVER???? #also yeah i never forget anyone ever ever ever #my writing #my writing tag #unrequited feelings #unrequited love #poetry #original poem #spilled ink #loneliness #lonely #past relationship #not rlly a relationship bc i didnt know i was gay for her but STILL #nosebleedclub #nosebleed club

[fandomscraziness22]

begonia for sadie and frankie and caleb!

hi this is very late we all know but i'm actually kinda proud of it! takes place right after ep 2 of College Tapes!

begonia (beware) — “just be careful, okay?”

Caleb hangs up the call and lets himself stew in his awful mixture of emotions for a few seconds, trying to name them as he goes.

Fear. Anger. Confusion. A hint of resentment. Longing for what used to be. 

Missing him.

Caleb takes a deep breath in, holds his emotions in tight, then as he lets out his breath, he shoves them all deep into the little box he’s created for this purpose, so he doesn’t infect his friends who are all at his kitchen table right now. Sure, when she taught him how to properly breathe and control his emotions, Dr. Bright didn’t intend for that exercise to be used quite this way (he's supposed to let the emotions settle into himself or slowly filter out into the breeze), but right now, it’s the safest way Caleb has.

When he’s sure he’s composed himself enough, he opens the door and faces Sadie, Frankie and Ben. 

“Who was that?” Frankie asks right away, balancing a slice of pizza on his fingertips. Caleb can see the electricity beginning to spark—one of Frankie’s many talents includes burning the bottom of his pizza crusts. 

“Uh, it was…Adam.” Caleb braces for impact.

Ben doesn't react (and Caleb doesn’t expect them to, being new around here), but Frankie and Sadie’s eyes both widen at the admission.

“What did he want?” Sadie snaps. “Please tell me you told him to fuck off and hung up.”

Like Caleb would ever do that. Even though they’ve been broken up for a year now, he still can’t help the slight pink-lovesick emotion that slithered around his heart at Adam’s voice. He was Caleb’s first love, and that’s not something he can let go easily.

When Caleb doesn’t answer, Ben asks hesitantly, “Who’s Adam?”

“Caleb’s ex,” Frankie says. “They went to high school together. He goes to Yale.” Ben’s face crinkles in admiration for the top school name-drop, but Frankie turns back to Caleb. “Why did he call?”

Caleb tries to ignore Sadie’s red-hot protective anger, though he feels a bit of it himself. “He said there was something Atypical going on, and he needs my help.”

Sadie’s already shaking her head. “No way, Caleb. He’s not your responsibility.”

“But it’s Atypical,” Caleb argues. “And he doesn’t know anyone like me out there. He sounded really freaked out.”

Caleb knows the different tones of Adam’s voice like the back of his hand. He knows the barely-hidden excitement of a new book he’d just finished reading, or the forced lightness Adam would use when his depression was bad and he really just needed Caleb to hold him all day. 

Or at least, Caleb used to know. He’d like to think that he can still read Adam, a little bit. And he sounded terrified of whatever he had found. Add to that the fact that Adam didn’t want to tell him over the phone? It was a recipe for something real.

Frankie, ever the optimistic one, asks the big question. “So you’re going to see him? Try and help?”

Caleb nods, ignoring Sadie’s huff. “I have a few more classes, but I can leave Friday afternoon. Spend the weekend checking it out, see if we can figure out the weirdness.”

Frankie and Ben both take his answer at face value, and Ben quickly engages Frankie in some sort of technology conversation. Something about coding but also how Frankie’s powers interact with the machines—nothing Caleb has to pay attention to.

He tries to take stock of his friends’ feelings; Ben’s contentment and enjoyment at being included, Frankie’s easy light purple a familiar presence in the back of his mind. Sadie nudges his foot with hers.

“You sure about this, Michaels?” she asks as she grabs another slice of pizza. “Because you can say no. I promise the world isn’t going to collapse if you don’t run to the rescue every chance you get.”

Caleb drinks a bit of his iced tea before answering. “I’m worried about seeing him, obviously. But he needs my help, and I’m the best option he’s got, I guess. I don’t want him to get hurt.”

Sadie snorts. “You’re nicer than me, Michaels.” She takes a moment to think, then says, “Just be careful, okay? I know you already had some scary Atypical shit happen to you, and I just need you to stay safe.”

He nods and smiles across the table at her. “I will, don’t worry.” Sadie finally drops it and Caleb tunes back into the conversation around him. He’s glad he has this little group to watch his back. He wouldn't want it any other way. 

#thanks for your patience my friend!! #the bright sessions #the college tapes #tct #tbs #caleb michaels #sadie #frankie #bu crew #angst #past relationship #fanfic #my writing